


Find My Way Back Home

by ferowyn



Series: XMFC - Cherik Playlist [7]
Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: AU, Angst, Cherik - Freeform, M/M, hurt!charles, kink meme prompt, mentions of turture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 01:28:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3550988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferowyn/pseuds/ferowyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the scruffy time-traveller and the alarmingly fast kid break Erik out of prison he decides to go along with them - until he realizes they are with Charles. Charles who did nothing. Charles who looked away while <i>other mutants were tortured</i>. [...] Reality, Erik has to learn, hurts even more than he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I: Don’t you go

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for a prompt at the XMFC kink meme:  
> http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/11912.html?thread=23127176#t23127176
> 
>  
> 
> **Priscilla Ahn - Find My Way Back Home**
> 
> _Don't you go,_   
>  _Away, I know,_   
>  _Without your love,_   
>  _I'll never find my way back home_

### Part I: Don’t you go

When that kind of scruffy looking broody guy and the kid who can move alarmingly fast break him out of prison Erik follows them, for what else is there to do? Apart from the fact that being imprisoned is really not all that much fun, and that it gets boring _very_ quickly, especially with no entertainment whatsoever – apart from that he wants to, _needs_ to feel metal again. It has been ten years, ten years in which his sixth sense has been deaf, blind, and numb all at the same time.

The humans incapacitated, _tortured_ him in a way they cannot even imagine.

But, well – nothing new about humans there, right?

The kid pulls of an incredible stunt, getting rid of the bullets when Erik cannot for lack of metal in them, and the scruffy looking broody guy gives him no chance to ask any questions, simply takes the two of them outside and to an airplane waiting close by – together with the second surprise of that day.

Hank is standing next to the plane, all angry and distrustful (and maybe, _maybe_ Erik can understand him, but that changes nothing about the fact that he thinks him weak for his choices, and anyway, where has the fur gone?), but he smiles at the scruffy looking broody guy.

“Thanks, Logan. Any problems?”

“Nothing Pietro couldn’t handle,” the scruffy looking broody guy – Logan – answers, his voice as sombre as his face has already promised, before clapping his hand onto the kid’s shoulder. “Thanks for helping.”

“No problem,” the kid answers, voice still bright with excitement. “That was fun!”

Logan flashes him a short, toothy grin. “I’d imagined you might say that.”

Pietro returns the grin, before raising his hand in a mock salute towards Erik, tilting his head and then he is gone, leaving no trace whatsoever.

Erik cannot help raising an eyebrow.

“He’s not coming with us, then, I take it?”

Logan’s eyes are impatient. “Obviously. Now move it, we’re on a schedule.”

“Where’re we going, anyway?”

He does not receive an answer.

Giving Hank – Beast – Hank – arrgh, this is confusing! – a wary glance Erik sighs and gives in, following the broody guy on board the rather nice looking plane. He can feel Hank entering behind him; however, where the young man makes for the cockpit Erik simply stops, closing his eyes as he finally allows himself to _feel_ the metal around him.

It soothes the formerly constant pain – once again being able to sense what his body and mind were deprived of for a decade. He does not think he will ever forget what not being able to felt like.

For the first time in so many years feeling at least close to content he sighs, before opening his eyes again, the sensation of all the metal around him a soothing thrumming at the back of his thoughts. He is alone in what seems to be a small room meant for storing, a door leading in each direction but ahead. The one to the left Hank went through, and the one behind him is closing right now. He feels the engines of the plane come to life as Hank starts them – another installation of his own, perhaps? – and uses his hold on the metal structures around him to steady himself as the machine takes up speed and then is lifted into the air.

Deciding that, if he wants to know what is going on, he will have to talk to the broody guy he finally moves towards the door on his right. He might not like being ordered to do _anything_ , really, but Logan _did_ break him out of prison. Besides, the guy is a fellow mutant.

His own honour – or what he has left of it – compels him to do so.

Sighing once again he steps forward even as he commands the door handle to move – and is it not a _nice_ door, made of nice, expensive wood? – and moves into what looks like a rather pretty sitting room, complete with sofas, tables, cupboards, bookshelves… and seat belts.

Also, there is a space left open for what looks to be a wheelchair, and-

…

Is that…

…

_Charles?_

…

Of course it is.

He should have guessed, Erik berates himself, after all Hank is here; and he knows the blue boy to have been the only one who ultimately stayed with the Professor. That plan of a school did not work out all that well, huh?

Formerly distanced, bright blue eyes suddenly explode into anger as Charles apparently picks up that stray thought.

Instead of pursuing the matter, however, the telepath averts his gaze and chooses to stare out of the window even as Erik remembers, close to panicking, that he does not have his helmet, that Charles can read his thoughts, thoughts he has no _right_ to read, not now, not ever-

The professor shows no reaction whatsoever, and, slowly, Erik forces himself to calm down. He chooses a seat as far away from who used to be his friend as is possible in the confined space; and Logan, whose face is even darker than before, moves to sit with Charles.

For all that they are looking like they are occupied with watching the clouds and reading, respectively, they might be having an entire conversation.

It is not like Erik cares.

His face might be as thunderous as the scruffy guy’s, he thinks in a moment of dark amusement, before debating whether he should _ask_ them what this is all about. It does not seem like they will tell him on their own, and now that he knows Charles is involved with whatever this is, he is no longer ready to follow them blindly.

What used to be trust, it seems, has turned to an extreme version of the exact opposite.

“Are you going to tell me what we’re going to do, or will you simply make me come along?”

Charles’ terribly blue eyes let go of the clouds, and as the telepath turns his head they find Erik’s once again, both them and his face carefully blank.

It is the scruffy guy, though, who answers.

“This might be hard to believe,” he begins, and already Erik cannot help but roll his eyes. _Really?_ This is how they are trying to convince him to do god-knows-what? “But I’m not from here… now… whatever. I- … I’m from the future, and _you_ sent me here. You and Charles.”

If not for those last words, Erik might actually have believed him.

There is no telling, after all, what mutants might be capable of.

However, that he and Charles might do something _together_ , in whatever kind of future, is highly unlikely.

“And what future might that be?” he asks, mocking words that are meant to show how much he is _not_ persuaded.

The scruffy guy’s eyes grow dark and angry. “One you should do _anything_ to prevent.” His voice is aggressive, and as his fists clench there is a raw, unhidden kind of _pain_ in his voice that almost convinces Erik, no matter Charles’ involvement. “We… _mutants_ … are on the verge of being exterminated. There’re so few of us left… The humans invented weapons – called Sentinels – we can’t fight. When they find you… there’s no chance to survive. Many of us were transported to _camps_ ” – and from the dangerous look in his eyes as he watches Erik flinch he chose those words very much on purpose – “and disabled using collars which make us unable to use our powers, and I’m not sure whether any of them are still alive where – _when_ – I come from. The only ones who ever made it out of one of these camps… are those now sacrificing themselves as the mutant who sent me here makes this possible. Everyone… everyone is ready to _die_ , including the two of you, because this? This is our last hope. Our _only chance left_.”

With that Logan averts his eyes once again, his whole frame brimming over with anger, and returns to staring at his newspaper, which might as well burst into flames any moment.

Eyebrows raised Erik stares at him, then turns to focus on Charles.

Logan’s _anguish_ certainly seemed genuine enough, and from the distant sorrow on the telepath’s face he can tell that Charles has found a similar truth in the time-traveller’s mind.

It _is_ true, then.

“And what, pray tell, are we supposed to do to prevent that from happening?” he asks, voice still dark and sarcastic.

“We stop Mystique from killing Trask.”

Erik’s raised eyebrow is quietly prompting Logan to elaborate; however, the time-traveller has taken to staring at Charles, now. Another quiet conversation, then.

“And who would that Trask guy be?”

“The one who invented the Sentinel-program.”

For a moment, Erik cannot believe it.

Then he realizes that Charles is involved, that this _has_ to be _Charles’_ plan, ever-adverse-to-human-killing Charles, and why is he even surprised? _Only_ Charles would think it a good idea to stop a war by letting the one who created the most powerful enemies _live_.

The fury kicks in, then, as it always does when the stupidly naïve telepath tries to keep him from saving their kind once again.

“And _why_ should we _stop_ her from killing someone who is set on _exterminating mutant kind??_ ”

Logan’s eyes are dark and thunderous once again. “Because if she kills him they ‘ll capture her, and in her DNA they’ll find what they need to make the Sentinels ultimately lethal!” He seems to be quite close to losing control.

So is Erik.

“Then why don’t we let her kill him and stop them from capturing her?”

“Because,” and Logan’s expression is that of that someone praying to the gods for patience as he is dealing with a defiant child, which makes Erik all the angrier “ _that_ would prove to the humans that we are a danger and need to be gotten rid of _in the first place!_ ”

Once again, this sounds so very much like something Charles would preach.

Erik, however, barely registers that the telepath has not said a word so far, keeping his features carefully schooled into a blank mask.

“So what – we stop her from killing him and let him continue with his attempts to rid the world of us??”

Logan rolls his eyes and rises, apparently unable to stay seated any longer.

“For god’s sake, I thought your older self was annoying – I had _no_ idea! Of course we don’t let him continue, but we can’t give those humans who until now _disapprove_ of what he’s doing any reason to suddenly _support_ his sick ideas, and that’s exactly what would happen! I _know_ that, learned it the hard way!”

For how he is raging, steam might be coming from his mouth.

“What do we do then?” Erik asks, refusing to give in and play along. They broke him out of prison, yes, but he is most definitely not going to act according to their stupidly peaceful plans!

“We expose him,” Logan finally explains. “First, we stop Mystique from killing him, and then we work on letting the world see the sick shit he’s doing. But we _can’t let her kill him!_ ”

Barely managing to stop himself from answering with a petulant ‘Yes, I _understood_ that!’ Erik clings to the fury. It is always easier to be angry; and, oh, he has reason enough to be!

“So, we let those research facilities exist even a _moment_ longer than necessary??”

Briefly he registers that Charles tenses; however, he chooses to ignore the telepath for now.

The bone claws shoot from Logan’s hands as he finally loses control.

“Because I’ve _seen_ such facilities,” Erik continues, and now he is yelling. “And I’ve tried to rescue those locked up there!” His head whips around, focuses on Charles where carefully blank blue eyes are staring at him. “I _did_ something! But where were you, Charles? Where were you when they needed our help, _your_ help?” The metal around him begins to shake as the telepath’s fingers are clinging to the armrests of his wheelchair, face still a blank mask.

“ _Where were you?_ Because they died, Charles, they all _died_ as your precious humans _killed_ them, and you did nothing but _watch_ as they took those we were supposed to protect! Emma – Azazel – Sean – Janos – Angel – _all_ of them were taken! They captured them, and took them god-knows-where, and we never saw them again! But I _know_ what happened to them – ever heard of the Mutant Genome Project, Charles?”

The plane is trembling, and Hank is shouting for them to calm down, sounding increasingly panicked. Logan is boiling with fury, and so is Erik. He barely manages to hold his control over his power as he remembers the faces of all those he lost to the Project – all those Charles, maybe, could have saved.

As he and the time-traveller are shaking with anger, however, Charles is still sitting there, eyes and face as blank as ever.

I have heard of it, yes, soft words brush against Erik’s mind, and just like this, he deflates.

There is no use arguing with Charles – even more so now that he seems to have learned how to control his emotions.

Also, the tiny touch of the telepath’s mind against his reminds him of times when Charles was not his enemy, but his _friend_ , and although he would never admit it – after the other one has retreated, as fast as was possible, the loss of the so well-known presence almost pains him.

He does have to confess, though, that there was something different in the way the younger one’s mind approached his this time – it seemed much more controlled, and much less emotional.

Much colder.

Somehow, that saddens Erik.

He is, however, very good at banishing thoughts like this one, and soon he has returned to staring angrily at Logan as the time-traveller lines out the plan, after Hank has straightened their flight path.

It certainly sounds easy enough: go in – stop Mystique from killing Trask – get out again.

That Charles does not offer even one word of his opinion on the matter is certainly surprising, considering that this _has_ to be his plan, but Erik chooses not to care.

He will work with them on this, as promised, and then they will go separate ways once again, after all.

So why should he mind the difference in Charles’ behaviour?

Well.

He _does_ care, despite everything that has happened.

That does not matter a thing, though, when they move in to stop Mystique – Hank taking care of Charles’ chair – and Erik decides that he has to kill her in order to save their world.

Charles- … Charles does not even _tell_ him to leave it. He does, however, get into the head of that Trask guy, who manages to keep Erik inside the room after he has shot the falling Mystique instead of going after her; using whatever sick kind of technology. Logan seems to be having some kind of flashback or seizure, and Beast is beating up the guy who shocked Mystique after they came in.

Calling all kinds of metals in the room to his aid Erik quickly gets rid of Trask, and then rushes towards the window-

…

But, of course, Mystique is long gone.

He turns around, then, and meets those distanced blue eyes from across the room as they are staring at him, a distinctly disappointed note in them.

‘ _I never thought you would do that_ ’, they seem to be saying, and ‘ _You betrayed us – me! – once again!_ ’

Erik masterfully ignores the distant pain, and instead allows the fury full bent once more.

Charles, after all, was just sitting there and watching with his terribly blue eyes, the entire time – sitting and watching and _doing nothing_ as they fought; not interfering with even _one_ word.

His anger, again, gets the better of him.

“Jeez, Charles, are you even above talking?” he sneers, ignoring the way the blank mask finally gives way to something else (shock, pain, panic?), and then he leaves too fast for the telepath to follow in his wheelchair.

They stopped Mystique from killing Trask – he is not, in no way, required to stay.

 

_TBC_


	2. Part II: Away, I know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is more of a filler.
> 
> Sorry for that.

### Part II: Away, I know

After those disasters that were Paris – and just _why_ did Charles not use his powers to stop those stupid humans? Another bout of misplaced morals? – and DC (and yes, he _does_ feel bad for basically having dropped a whole stadium on Charles, but there is no changing that now) it takes Erik a whole four months to find Mystique again.

By then their respective wounds have healed, and they are both wanted criminals on the run.

Ahh, nothing new there.

The Logan they met, it seems, has returned to his own time, and did everything go smoothly? There is no telling, of course.

Mystique is hiding in an old warehouse in Argentina, and when she returns from doing god-knows-what and finds Erik in her hideout preparing dinner she immediately attacks him. (He _did_ try to kill her, so he supposes he understands.) He barely manages to stop her, and only when she is bound by a number of thick metal wires he is now taking wherever he goes she finally seems to be ready to _talk_.

“What do you want?” Or snarl, rather.

“Your help,” he answers, calmly finishing up the sandwiches.

“And why would I help _you_?” He has never seen her that hostile. (But once again he understands.)

He walks over and hands her one sandwich, unbinds her left hand so far that she can eat.

Her yellow eyes are dark with fury as she stares at him, completely ignoring dinner.

He shrugs. “Last time I checked, we wanted the same things. Also, we’re both on the run, and while we certainly shouldn’t run around in large groups, we _are_ safer together then alone. Safer, and more efficient.”

She calms a little as she obviously recognizes the truth in his words.

“And what’re you trying to do, that you need my help in order to be _more efficient_?”

“What I always do,” he answers, and takes a bite of his sandwich, chewing calmly. Only after he has swallowed, under her impatient eyes, he continues: “Try and protect our kind against the humans. When we busted Trask, we found quite a lot of information on the Mutant Genome Project” – and she flinches at that – “as, apparently, he was involved quite deeply. No surprise there.” He feels the anger return, anger at what this _person_ has done, how he _tortured_ countless mutants under the mantle of _research_.

“Of course, the information went to the governments, but I remember quite a lot – enough that we can go and mix some of the facilities up. I doubt that they’ll be closed down anyway, and maybe we can rescue a few of ours.”

As always, he believes in the worst of humanity.

Mystique, he knows, does too.

“You promise never to shoot me again?” Her wide eyes are filled with hope – hope that he will.

“I promise. And – I’m sorry I did try. I didn’t want to kill you, I really didn’t. I never worked with anyone the way I can work with you.” That is a lie, and both of them know it. “I just thought… that it was our only chance.”

“I do understand that,” she whispers softly. “But – never again?”

“Never again,” he immediately affirms.

“Alright, I can work with that. But – we’ll need a team.”

“I agree,” Erik nods, commanding the wires to release her now that she is no longer attempting to attack him. “We’ll assemble one, then, and do some research in the meantime. I remember the approximate locations of three facilities, we’ll have to scout them, find out the security details. As soon as we’re ready, we move in – and maybe we’ll find more details on other institutions there. We save whoever’s still alive, and collect any useable evidence.”

Sighing, Mystique lets herself fall onto her makeshift bed – made up of an air mattress and a few blankets – and finally begins to eat her sandwich.

“Alright, I’m in. I even know where to find a few capable and _very_ useful mutants who might want to work with us.”

A small sound of surprise escapes him.

“And where would that be?”

The grin he receives as an answer is rather dangerous.

“I went to visit our troops in Vietnam some time ago… and met the ‘special department’ of mutants they’d drafted. I managed to keep them out of yet another facility… and sent them home. I…” She hesitates for a moment. “Havoc was among them.”

Erik’s smile is understanding.

“You know how to contact some?” he diverts the topic from the young man both of them had once considered family.

“Yes, and they should remember me. I… mixed the place up a little, when I stopped that one guy from taking them.”

“Can you contact them, then, while I go scout out the first location?”

“Where would that be – the US?”

He gives her a toothy grin. “Of course not. Trask had all his illegal labs outside the country. Too much risk to be detected, I suppose… One’s in South America, actually – in Bolivia, so not too far from here. The second one’s in China, and the third one in the UK, surprisingly. Wales, to be more precise.”

She raises an eyebrow when she hears of that odd one out, but simply nods. “Alright. I’ll leave tomorrow morning, and go find some of them. We’ll meet again – how?”

“In two months’ time, here,” Erik decides, and Mystique nods again.

“Fair enough. I’ll go to bed, then, so that I can leave early tomorrow.”

With that she crawls underneath her blankets and, without another word, closes her eyes.

Shaking his head about that Erik darts her another glance, before leaving the warehouse.

He makes it to Bolivia fast enough, and after he has crossed the border what was uncomplicated before becomes downright easy. Chuquisaca, a department in the South, and its capital Sucre are not exactly hard to find, and after he has reached the town all he needs to do is go west for a few miles, until he reaches an abandoned airport. The labs, he knows, are supposed to be in one of the old hangars, and the next two weeks he spends trying to find out which one, and whether there are any security measurements in place, without being seen by _anyone_.

When he returns to Mystique’s old warehouse he is fairly certain that the facility is abandoned, and that they will have an easy enough time going in and making sure no one, _nothing_ is left.

The shapeshifter’s hideout is quite cramped when he arrives there, and Mystique introduces three mutants who served in Vietnam together with Havoc – they call themselves Toad, Ink and Quill – and one the latter brought along: Vanisher. According to her she explained what Erik is planning to do, and as most of them barely escaped imprisonment in such a facility themselves they are eager enough to help.

Also, neither of them has qualms about removing the humans involved with the labs.

And they now have the help of a teleporter once more.

Thinks are looking rather bright, actually.

They move out the next day, Erik being quite proud of this new Brotherhood, and take a detour over Paraguay, where they basically ruin a lonely, bleak valley as they train for three days and learn how to work together.

They move on to Sucre, then, and when they reach the abandoned airport they do not waste any more time with scouting.

With Vanisher as a backup to get them out should something go wrong Erik enters first, a not inconsiderable number of metal spikes ready to be fired.

The hangar, which looks like any other from the outside, has been converted into a real maze of rooms and corridors, labs and holding cells.

It is also completely abandoned.

As they try to find anything which might at least be used as evidence they realize that – while having been done carefully – the departure and cleaning-up must have happened at haste. There is nothing left to point out the kinds of experiments that were performed, and equally less is to be found on the identities of the experimented-upon mutants, or what happened to them.

What they do, however, find is one folder containing data and results, and quite a lot of hints at other labs.

Content that they have something, if not _satisfied_ for the lack of fighting, of killing, of _helping_ , Erik collects the evidence and sends all of them ahead to the old farmhouse in the Southwest of China, the cellar of which houses another lab. He, in the meantime, takes yet another detour and stops in one his old hideouts in Egypt, which is still intact, and – hopefully – secret.

There he leaves what they found in Bolivia, before following his teammates to their new target.

When he arrives Vanisher and Mystique have already scouted the location, while the other three took care of procuring them food and some clothes.

They go straight in once again, and while this lab is abandoned as well, they find a whole lot more this time. Apparently everything but the most dangerous information was left behind, and as they collect all that might be used as evidence, some day, various cries of fury and anguish resound in the old cellar. Whenever one of them finds some details, sees the _pictures_ -

Erik is so angry, he wants to tear the world apart.

 

_TBC_


	3. Part III: Without your love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there’ll _probably_ be just one more chapter after this – I haven’t managed to finish the story up yet, so I don’t know for sure.
> 
> It _should_ go up tomorrow… should, because after a day of preparing presentations and calculating concentrations and volumes and OD values my brain feels like nice squishy homogenous mush O.o
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, let’s get this party started.

### Part III: Without your love

Breaking into the facility in Wales is significantly harder than crashing the labs in China and Bolivia was.

For one, this research base is located in a country where security is much more detailed, and where the researchers are actually _hiding_ from the government, which makes this base much better hidden.

Also, it appears to be still in use, and those working there are actively trying to keep everyone away.

It makes Erik _itch_ all the more to go in and mix things up a little.

He does, however, realize that he needs to do this properly if he does not want to needlessly endanger those following him.

Accepting that he knows way too little – not even being able to say where _exactly_ the base is located – Erik decides to take things slowly, and do some proper planning for a change. And no matter that few people are easier to hide than many, he needs more mutants to help him if he wants to take on an active research facility equipped to _deal with mutants_.

“I know someone,” Ink says when Erik explains. “I could ask.”

“Please do. Mystique, Vanisher, Toad – you find the exact location, and scout it. When I return I want to know as much as possible, alright?”

All he receives is nods of agreement.

He has not only chosen a shapeshifter – who may turn into anyone – a teleporter – who may leave from anywhere – and someone with better instincts and stronger legs for this mission because of their duties. He has also chosen them because he knows they _can_ do it, and they _will_. The labs are located somewhere underground beneath Cardiff, and finding them will be tricky enough. If anyone can manage to, it will be them.

Quill he makes responsible for training whoever they bring, working them into the group, and then he and Ink leave.

Returning to the US is dangerous, of course, and they go together so that they can protect each other with their powers should the need arise.

They cross the border via Mexico, without getting caught, and when Erik shows up at Pietro’s place and asks the kid whether he wants to come along the boy is ecstatic. As long as his twin sister, Wanda, can come too he is in, and Erik gladly accepts another mutant – and one with such a great power at that.

Quicksilver and Scarlett Witch are part of their Brotherhood, then, and knowing Pietro Erik sends them ahead to Cardiff as he and Ink move on to a guy the tattooed young mutant knows. Shocker, it turns out, is able to paralyze others using shock bolts. Upon telling him of their plans he says he knows two more who might be interested in joining them, two who had to live underground for a _very_ long time, chased away by those they once called family, and who are all too eager to get some revenge.

It is how Erik and Ink return to Cardiff with Shocker, Burner and Lorelei in tow almost five months after they left, and in the meantime the others actually managed to find the facility – along with a total of three ways to get in.

Taking another two weeks to make some proper plans Erik watches as his group knits itself together, and while he would give _anything_ to have Emma here, and Azazel and Angel and Riptide-

…

This, too, is a good team, and he knows that he can rely on them.

And when they finally make a move on that base they are as ready as they can be.

Erik, of course, goes first. Sharp metal spikes ready to be shot he waits for Mystique’s signal, helmet safe upon his head, and when the shapeshifter nods he tears the thick metal door from its hinges and throws it down the corridor they have now access to.

This knocks out two heavily armed guards that Burner takes quick care of, and when no more is left than two piles of ashes – the guns now in the hands of his allies – he puts the door back into the frame and lets them fuse as he rushes down the sterilely white corridor.

No human who works in such an institution, they decided, deserves to be left alive.

This place is another maze of rooms and hallways, and all they have for a map is Erik’s sense of the metal structures. Their first priority, according to the plan, is to get rid of any guards and scientists, and they split up – Mystique and Shocker leading two other teams.

When they meet again in front of the cells where the mutants – _test subjects_ – are kept no human who was inside is still alive, and they try to prepare themselves for what they might find here.

Finally, after another nod from Mystique, Erik also makes short work of the door in front of him and steps into the opening, only to freeze in shock.

In front of him is a circular room, lined with small cells. There is no more than one exit – which they just came in through – and only half of the cells are occupied. The mutants locked up inside…

Are in a terrible state.

Upon seeing the group who came to free them, however, they seem to wake from their desperate haze; and as Erik’s fury makes his blood boil, the metal bars crumbling under the surge of his powers, the others run in to help these seven mutants who were treated no better than _animals_ by those disgusting researchers.

Collars are being opened, gags removed.

Slowly, the mutants move to stand once again with the help of Erik’s Brotherhood, and as he offers them a safe house, food and rest all of them agree. Vanisher takes them out – Quill and Lorelei come along – while the others stay to help Erik and Mystique search the base for anything interesting.

They find what seems to be a storage room containing data on _everything_.

As Ink and Shocker assemble mountains of information about similar labs and facilities Mystique is browsing through folders upon folders of experiment designs and results.

Erik, in the meantime, has chosen to work through the shelves housing information on any mutant who was imprisoned here if even for no more than _minutes_. Every folder contains names and alter egos, detailed descriptions of appearance and abilities, suggestions on which kinds of experiments might be conducted, and the results of those which actually _were_ performed.

As he skims all the folders in order to get an idea on who was imprisoned here, and what exactly was done with them, he fights to keep control over his powers.

He is _furious_ for every single mutant who has experimented upon; however, some are worse than others.

It is one of the last folders that is _worst_.

Upon opening it his eyes immediately find two things – the name ‘ _Charles Xavier_ ’, and a picture of strikingly blue eyes hazy with pain.

He freezes for a moment, shocked, then quickly begins to read _everything_ before he can even consider whether he wants to know – whether it is _his place_ to know.

There are details on what they knew of Charles’ telepathic abilities, and a description of his role in the ‘ _Cuban Missile Crisis_ ’. The next section, concerning the experiments conducted, feature the words ‘ _Ability Enforcement Project_ ’, ‘ _Project: WideAwake_ ’ and ‘ _Mutant Genome Project_ ’.

Erik feels sick as he remembers yelling “ _Ever heard of the Mutant Genome Project, Charles?_ ” at the telepath.

It still gets worse, though.

There is a _very_ detailed description of what Charles had to go through in the research for the Mutant Genome Project, which included lots of _extremely_ painful procedures. It is, however, nothing compared to what was done for the Ability Enforcement Project.

_The subject is only the second with telepathic powers ever examined by the Research department of Trask Industries, and as such the goal was to know more details on the abilities this gift provides him with. After a number of experiments concerning the range and strength had been conducted, it was decided to also focus on social aspects. In an attempt to find out how well telepathic powers may act as a substitute for actual conversation the subject’s vocal chords were surgically removed in order to deprive it of all abilities to physically speak._.

There are also some very detailed pictures-

…

For all that Erik knows, the world might have stopped turning, or be exploding around him.

He would not realize it, caught in shock and disgust and _pain_ as he is.

They removed Charles’ vocal chords.

“ _Jeez, Charles, are you even above talking?_ ” resounds in his memories, louder and louder still, and then he whips around and barely makes it to the sink located at one of the walls before retching violently.

Mystique immediately runs towards him, and all he manages to do is tear the folder (which she has pried from his fingers as he has been unable to answer any of her questions) from her hands after she has seen the name of her brother on the first page.

“Don’t!” he wheezes as she tries to reach for it again, wide yellow eyes ablaze with shock and anger.

“He’s my brother!” she screams even as Ink wraps his arms around her to stop her from attacking Erik, “I deserve to know!”

Erik shakes his head, gulps. “You don’t,” he murmurs. “Hell, neither did I! He… didn’t tell us, after all. Also… I really wish now that I wouldn’t know. Spare yourself this, Mystique.”

She grows limp in Ink’s arms, and her eyes tear up.

“Is it… really that bad?” she asks, whispering as if she were afraid of the answer.

Well, probably she _is_.

Erik nods, eyes closed as he rinses his mouth.

“It is.”

She gulps heavily, suppresses a sob.

“What… what are we going to do?”

His face, Erik supposes, must look murderous.

“We finish cleaning up here, take the evidence we need and burn the rest. Then we return to our hideout and look after those we freed, like we promised. A soon as we know that they’re well, we make for Westchester. Well, _I_ will, and I guess I couldn’t stop you from coming along if I tried?”

Her eyes are dark and angry, even as pained tears are escaping them.

“You’re right – you can’t.”

“I know.”

Ink releases his hold, then, and Erik tells Vanisher to take the shelves to the base in Egypt, which the teleporter knows by now.

Charles’ folder, however, he keeps.

Of course, Mystique notices.

“What’re you going to do with that?”

“Return it to Charles. He might not want to be reminded of all this, but what happens with it is _his_ choice. I won’t read more than I already did.”

Instead of the objections he expects he receives just an accepting nod.

“You’re right. It’s not our business. Just- … would you tell me what- …”

“…was so _sick_?” he finishes her question (she flinches), and ponders the matter for a moment. “I… alright. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. They… they removed his vocal chords, in order to see if he can communicate with only his powers which, of course, they mostly suppressed,” he finally explains, figuring that this is easier than Charles having to tell her himself.

Mystique is not the only one to run for the sink, then.

 

_TBC_


	4. Part IV: I’ll never find my way back home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this _is_ the last chapter. Certainly not the best I’ve ever written…  
>  Well.  
> I hope it still works for you.

### Part IV: I’ll never find my way back home

In a way, X-Mansion looks like it always did – huge, elegant, aloof.

In a way, it also looks so terribly _different_ from what it used to look like for Erik – cosy, welcoming, a _home_.

He asked Vanisher to drop them off a little outside of what should be the reach of Charles’ telepathy (or rather, what the scientists _thought_ to be the reach), not wanting to drop in on the younger one, and with such a heavy burden at that.

The folder in his arms feels as if it weighs tons.

Every step he takes closer to the building is almost difficult, and he can see Raven – Mystique – fighting the same demons as she is walking next to him.

He is waiting for the familiar brush of Charles’ mind against his, _counting on_ the telepath to find out why they are here.

When the sensation fails to set in he grows nervous – even more than he already is.

“Did he… contact you?”

Mystique, it appears, is having similar thoughts as she worries her bottom lip, for she does not need to ask whether he is talking about the last weeks in general, or about right _now_.

Worried, she shakes her head. “No. I… not even a slight touch.”

They exchange an alarmed glance, and then begin to run.

Logically, Erik knows that Charles’ mind approached his just once during their flight to Paris, and only one more time in DC, when he controlled Erik after Mystique had taken him out. _Logically_ , he realizes that Charles stayed away _on purpose_ , most likely due to the many times Erik told him to stay out of his head.

This visit is not about logic, though, and both of them are way too worried already.

The telepath approaches neither of the two as they rush towards the large wooden door.

He is, however, waiting behind it; letting them in after Erik’s sharp, frantic knock.

Mystique – Raven – _arggh!_ – throws herself into his arms the moment she sees him, sobbing quietly as she clings to him, face hidden in his shirt.

Charles has wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

His terribly, _terribly_ blue eyes, however, are focused on something else-

…

They found the folder in Erik’s hands.

The folder, which carries the logos of all three Projects.

He stares for a few moments, before averting his eyes and concentrating on his devastated sister instead.

The carefully blank mask Erik has almost gotten used to (and wishes never to see again) is firmly in place.

In an attempt to mitigate the heavy atmosphere he gulps, before asking: “Could we… go to your study?”

After a seemingly infinite moment of hesitation Charles nods, and – carefully – coaxes Raven (Mystique, god _damnit_!) into letting go for moment, before making for said room; as they follow like puppies.

Hank catches up with them halfway there, apparently having been called telepathically.

It hurts Erik in ways he could not even explain that Charles is staying clear of his mind, but approaching Hank’s. (This is, of course, his own fault – which does not make the damn thing any easier.)

The young man’s eyes are dark with mistrust; however, he does not question their presence, or Charles’ decision to let them in.

Quietly accepting the situation he reaches for Charles’ wheelchair and pushes, so that the telepath can open the door.

The professor does not move to sit behind his desk, as Erik would have expected, but motions for them to join him around a small, elegant coffee table.

Silence falls then, and Hank is the one to speak up in the end.

“What’re you doing here?”

Searching Charles’ face for clues on what the younger one might want him to tell, and finding nothing, Erik sighs before putting the folder onto the table.

“We… spent the last year mixing up some facilities the locations of which I remembered. All were abandoned – all but the one in Cardiff.”

Hank’s eyes widen, alarmed.

Judging by the pain in them he knows very well what was done to Charles.

“What did you do?”

“We killed every human, took the mutants to a hideout, sacked good evidence, and burned the rest,” Mystique explains aggressively.

To his complete and utter surprise, Erik sees no disappointment in Charles’ still very guarded eyes.

No disapproval.

Only something that might be… satisfaction?

Peace?

“What do you know?” Hank disrupts the quiet moment, and Erik in turn breaks the intense eye contact.

“I read most of it,” he admits, still feeling guilty about that. “I know, I shouldn’t have. I just… I realized it was _you_ Charles, you who meant so much to me and who I’d been such an asshole to, and I- … I wanted to know what they _did_ , without ever really considering you might not want me to find out.”

There is a tiny glint of understanding in the terribly blue eyes.

A little more certain, Erik continues: “Raven only saw the first page, then I stopped her. But… I told her about the… vocal chords.” Raven (did he just call her that, too??) looks vaguely sick again, and he thinks that his own pallor might rival hers. “I figured that’d be easier for you… if you didn’t have to tell her yourself.”

There is definitely gratitude now.

Hank sighs, and his hands are clenched to angry fists.

“You probably know more than me, then.”

Erik’s expression must be murderous as he answers.

“You should be grateful for that.”

“Believe me – I am,” the young mutant immediately retorts. “It’s just that… sometimes… I wish… I wish I knew better how to help Charles.” The last words are barely more than a whisper, as if he did not want the telepath to know. (Which is, of course, completely futile.)

A tiny smile makes it onto Charles’ lips as he reaches for Hank’s fingers, and whatever he tells his friends must have been the right thing, for Hank relaxes a little.

Erik watches their silent exchange, and suddenly it hurts him even more that Charles’ mind is still staying away from his.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, then, and he realizes that now, finally, is the time to say all those things he has been burying all those years. “I’m sorry for so much – for shooting you, for paralyzing you, for dropping the stadium on you, for saying those terrible things about your students, and the Mutant Genome Project, and your not talking. I’m sorry for leaving you – twice. But, most of all I’m sorry for telling you to stay out of my head.” He sinks to his knees then, in front of Charles’ chair, and slowly – hesitantly – reaches for the younger one’s hands.

When the telepath does not pull them away, but instead grips his own tightly, Erik feels himself grow more courageous.

“Please get into my head, Charles. Please _talk_ to me. I… I had no idea I was telling you not to communicate at _all_ when I said that. But even if you still had your vocal chords… even then I’d tell you to contact me. I… I didn’t want you to _look_ into my head, I was afraid of… of what you might find there. What you’d think of that. But… but I know now, that you’d never pry, that you’d never see things I didn’t want you to. I _trust_ you, Charles. Also… frankly, I don’t care any longer _if_ you learn those things.”

Charles’ smile, which has been growing during his monolog, is wide and quite dazzling now.

His terribly, _beautifully_ blue eyes are wide open, and shining with unshed tears.

The telepath is staring at him, happiness unbound in his fine features, and then finally, _finally_ Erik feels the younger one’s mind approach his once again.

Thank you, my friend.

“This is nothing you should thank me for,” Erik objects gravely, voice hoarse, but suspects his own smile might lighten up the room along with Charles’.

Indeed, there is nothing Charles should thank him for… but there are so many things he wishes the younger one might forgive him for.

I would say there is nothing to forgive, suddenly resounds in his mind, and he is quite startled but that, of course, would be a lie. You know me so very well, Erik… what you apologized the most profusely for, was really what hurt me most. You are, however, forgiven. I wish you would not have found out, though.

“I’m _very_ happy I found out, although it’s gruesome,” Erik basically growls.  After all, it made me come here – finally. “They deserved to be killed!”

When Charles offers no disagreement he is surprised indeed, but thinks he should have expected that.

Pacifist or no, they _tortured_ the telepath, and while the younger one certainly is soft and sweet and peace-loving he is also fierce, burning with fires many others could never imagine.

Thank you, vibrates against his mind, and it sounds almost amused.

Erik realizes then that the younger one is still rather withdrawn – that he had to lock up his emotions in order to make it through the labs, and what must have come afterwards, even remotely sane.

It will be his pleasure, Erik thinks, to make Charles an emotional, outgoing man once more.

What trickles into his mind then, is clearly – however weak – anticipation.

The afternoon passes quickly after that.

Charles takes turns conversing with Hank, Raven and Erik, who all take care to give their answers aloud. They manage to make him offer ghosts of smiles, and sometimes even reals ones, multiple times, and all of them are quite proud of that accomplishment.

Charles, of course, is well aware of their pride (and, maybe, that even convinces him to release another tiny smile).

When it grows late and neither Raven nor Erik make any moves to leave Hank goes and prepares their old rooms as if it were a given, and when Erik stays after the others go to bed Charles does not even seem to be surprised.

He does, however, offer him another _real_ wide smile as Erik sets up the chessboard.

Just like in old times, then?

No. We’re making this new times… new memories, Erik immediately corrects him, giving the younger one a tiny smile of his own as he resolves that – now that they are alone – there is no reason to keep speaking aloud.

We will, Charles agrees then, eyes a little guarded once more. Erik… what are you planning on doing?

His insecurity vibrates against Erik’s mind, and the older one begins to understand _why_ the telepath might have found it necessary to almost completely suppress his emotions.

There is no way to hide anything if your minds are touching.

Staying – if you let me, he answers calmly. Maybe I can even bring the others here? Don’t get me wrong – we _will_ keep mixing up Trask’s labs. It’s about time someone does that. However… we might… consider… doing things your way. At least a little.

The mixture of real amusement and relief that makes it through then is rather startling.

You are always welcome here, Charles answers warmly, eyes on Erik instead of the board. So is everyone who needs my help. Also… While I’d rather you expose those scientists than kill them, I agree with you on the matter that the government is not about to really do something about those labs. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have found anything in Cardiff. That this precise facility was still active rather speaks for new funds… anyway, I _do_ see the necessity if we want to save our brothers and sisters. No one… _no one_ should have to suffer what I had to go through!

He looks so lost and agonized then, that Erik abandons his chair and wraps his arms around the younger one instead.

Charles buries face in the crook of Erik’s neck and clings to him, shaking.

I… I feel terrible for thinking that, but in some sick way I’m really grateful that you killed them. It’s just…

Even his thoughts sound like sobs.

“You couldn’t move on,” Erik finishes the sentence, even as he sends a forceful It’s not _you_ who’s sick towards the other.

They’re silent for a few minutes then, and the older one makes sure not to let go of his tormented friend even for a moment.

I… I’d even beg you to come back, and stay with me, Charles admits then, and raises his tear-stained face to look at him. So… if it’s Trasks’ labs you’re busting, I won’t even try to stop you. Just… promise me not to hurt anyone more than absolutely necessary?

I promise, Erik immediately replies, trying to supress the thought that they better never discuss what ‘necessary’ would entail, for they definitely have different opinions on that.

Judging by the short flash of amusement he receives Charles caught the though anyway.

He does not comment on it, though.

They focus on their game, then, only exchanging short jokes and banter.

Charles, it seems, has not lost his humour, even if he is still smiling very little, and trying very hard to keep his emotions to himself.

Erik, in the meantime, is doing the exact opposite – he almost _throws_ his own emotions at Charles, wanting the younger one to know what he is feeling.

Also, his patience is dwindling rapidly.

“Would you… tell me about it?” he finally asks, eyes on the knight the younger one is currently moving. You don’t have to of course. It’s just that… I wish to know what happened; if only to be more angry on your behalf.

A strange mixture of sad amusement and resolve reaches him, and Charles fixes his eyes on the board as well.

Will you… content yourself with the short version?

If you tell me the full version some other time.

A short moment of hesitation.

Then-

I will. If you stay.

I will, Erik repeats the younger one’s words, smiling a little.

He is not planning to leave again.

Ever.

I… alright. I… they captured me. I had wiped Moira’s memory, but not as thoroughly as I should have – I figured no one would ask her for details. Never did I expect that they would _torture_ her to spill what little she remembered. His eyes are shining angrily in his pale face.  She was… also kept at Cardiff. Somehow, they found out what I looked like, and when I went to Oxford to give a lecture… they kidnapped me on my way home. Knocked me right out, and when I woke up I was in chains and without my powers. You saw their machines… I had no way to make them let me leave. The experiments that followed…

He gulps, and closes his eyes.

Erik reaches for his hands, the game long forgotten.

Clinging to the older one, Charles finds the strength to continue.

It was all more or less bearable… until they took out my vocal chords. They didn’t even… drug me. I felt everything.

Eyes fixed on the crude scar at Charles neck – and why is it he sees it only now? – Erik fights the urge to jump to his feet and be sick, and then storm off and kill someone, slowly and painfully, before declaring war on human kind.

In that order.

I was… made go through a lot of tests, then. They still had Moira, and they threatened to kill her if I did not do what they told me. So… they allowed me use of a _tiny_ portion of my powers, and made me communicate with them. I… I learned how to communicate with barely any of my abilities at my disposal, how to link the minds of a group of people so that they could hear what the others _said_ , and how to keep my emotions from coming through the link. In a way, they were to me who Shaw was to you. They tortured me, but I learned so much from them.

The comparison makes Erik want to scream with rage.

There is no one he would wish to meet someone to do to them what Shaw did to him.

In the end, that was their mistake. My control… became finer and finer, and then I managed to grab hold of all of my powers as they were regulating them when I woke up from unconsciousness. It was raw and brutal and hurt like hell, but I managed to force my mind into the scientist’s before he could supress it strongly enough, and then made him free me and Moira. We made it out with the help of my powers, and I made an old Lady living close by call Hank and tell him to pick me up in Dublin. Then I wiped Moira’s memories once agaom – all of them this time – and dropped her off at a local hospital, before sneaking on board of a ferry that took me to Ireland. I couldn’t… I wasn’t strong enough to look after both of us, he immediately explains, trying to defend himself.

Of course not, Erik replies. That was probably for the best, anyway… nothing she can tell now.

Charles’ wonderful blue eyes are filled with guilt, but he nods anyway.

Erik stares at him for a few whole moments, the younger one being lost in his cruel memories, before making a snap decision.

“You told me this, no matter how hard it was for you,” he thus says quickly, to keep himself from changing his mind again. “It’s my turn to be honest. I… Charles, I think it’s time you properly got into my head, and looked into what I was trying to keep you away from all this time.”

Deep blue eyes are shining with surprise as Charles looks at Erik, the former pain almost gone.

Are you sure?

Very much so.

His trepidation, Erik is convinced, makes it through. But so does his wish for Charles to finally _know_.

The younger one’s now open eyes drill into his own as his mind approaches Erik’s who suddenly realizes that Charles does no longer raise his fingers to his temples.

Then-

…

_Charles smiling at me – bliss… Charles’ arms wrapped around me, his mind against mine for the first time as he makes me let go of the submarine – warmth… Charles sitting in a wheelchair – guilt… I miss Charles – sadness… Charles buried underneath half a stadium – more guilt… I’m never going to hear Charles’ voice again – pain… a bullet in Charles’ back – even more guilt… Charles’ name on a page in a folder – shock… details of the experiments performed on Charles – fury, agony, hatred… I wish I could see Charles again – sadness… I have to see Charles again – fear… Charles’ beautifully terribly blue eyes locked with mine – love… Charles’ first real smile since I turned up here – love… Charles’ face hidden in my shirt, my arms around him – love… Charles feeling bad for getting into my head to communicate – pain, love… Charles telling me about his time in the lab – hurt, anger pain furyagonyhatred **love** -_

Charles’ beautifully, terribly blue eyes are wide when he slowly re-emerges from Erik’s mind.

I… had no idea…

Erik’s smile is rather lopsided.

That was the plan.

Charles is looking a little lost then, and Erik thinks it might have been a mistake – not telling him in general, but telling him _already_. It might be too much to handle after everything that happened-

The younger one, however, proves once again that he is stronger than everyone thinks him to be.

You… promise to stay?

“I do.” I’m never letting you go again. Not after you forgave me for all the mistakes I made… not after I finally admitted to _myself_ what you mean to me, he ads silently.

Charles’ smile is honest then – honest and wide and real and _happy_.

I’ll hold you to that.

 

_FIN_


End file.
